


in the clouds, i see your face

by orphan_account



Series: in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt [4]
Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c., Real Person Fiction
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mile High Club, Unhealthy Relationships, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, ok still not fired...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:26:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It would be a stretch to say things are going well, but things are, well,going.





	in the clouds, i see your face

It would be a stretch to say things are going well, but things are, well, _going_. The détente seems to be continuing and Reince can’t express how fucking relieved he is that he has a little bit of job security at this point. And they’re going to Kenosha, for Christ’s sake – if that’s not a subtle sort of win for him, then, what is?

He’s sitting down for a moment, phone in his hand as he scrolls through his messages to prepare for when they land, and Kellyanne takes a seat beside him. She’s engrossed in her phone too, but Reince can’t help glancing up every few seconds to look up at her. It’s been a while since they’ve been in even the same room and, well…

He clears his throat. “Hey, Kellyanne.”

She looks up for a moment and gives him a polite, if confused, smile. “Hi.”

“How are you?” he asks. He clears his throat. “I mean, it feels like ages since I’ve last seen you.”

“Reince,” she says, raising a brow, “we saw each other yesterday.”

“Oh, right.” His chuckle is meek and humbling, and she gives him a sympathetic look as he leans back into the seat. “Yeah, well, when’s the last time we were together, just the two of us?”

“That’s a good point,” she nods slowly. “I have been busy lately, what with all the things I’ve been doing…” she trails off awkwardly.

“Like, uh, being the darkness or whatever?”

Kellyanne gives him a look and Reince laughs until she breaks out into another smile. “I’m glad you can laugh about that,” she says with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles, “you know they didn’t mean you in specific – they meant the administration as a whole. Me, you, Steve, the other Steve, Sean, all of us. We’re all ‘the darkness’.”

“Not you, though,” she says.

Reince blinks. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs and leans back, phone dangling loosely out of her hand as she looks out the open window. “I mean, people say the nastiest shit about me and Bannon – he’s the devil incarnate, I’m a lying bitch. But, they don’t say those kinds of things to you. They don’t hate you.”

He scoffs. “Try telling that to Chris Ruddy.”

“Chris Ruddy aside,” she looks back at him, sun lighting up her hair and turning it white, “while people may have said that you’re not right for this job, that you’re cowardly, that you’re a spineless hick with no real chance of succeeding in government and that you should be fired…”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?”

She rolls her eyes and waves her hand dismissively. “Look, they criticize you, but they’ve never actually damned you to hell.” Her expression wavers a moment from her usual steely determination and to a subtle, almost sad look.

Reince reaches out and touches her arm. “Hey,” he says, voice soft, “I don’t think you’re going to hell.”

Kellyanne smiles softly. “You’re sweet, Reince, you really are. No wonder you and Sally have such a wonderful relationship.”

He smiles back, softly. He opens his mouth, maybe to ask a question, maybe to console her further, but then he looks past her and there he is.

Steve.

Reince swallows hard and stands up. “I, uh, I got to go… to the bathroom.” He turns around and starts walking away, not listening if Kellyanne says anything or if Bannon’s tried to stop him. He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches one of the restrooms and locks the door behind him.

He stands in front of the sink and takes a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. In his pocket, his phone rings. He takes a deep breath before checking and, thankfully, it’s not Steve – it’s Dina. He picks up with a smile.

“Hey,” he says, smiling despite himself.

“Hi.” Dina sounds a little tired from what he can tell, but the softness and sweetness of her voice isn’t diminished at all. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going fine. We’re, uh, still in the air but we’re almost there, in Kenosha.” He clears his throat. “How’s, uh, Egypt?”

“Exhausting,” she sighs. He hears some rustling on the other end, possibly her resettling herself on whatever chair, couch, or bed she’s on. “I could really use something to relax.”

“Have you tried knitting?”

He laughs at his own joke but he can tell her chuckle is more out of pity than anything. She lets out a hum. “Hey, where are you right now? Somewhere private?”

He looks around and shrugs. “I… I guess you could say that. I’m hiding out in the bathroom.”

“Hiding from what?”

“Responsibilities?” There’s no way he’s owning up to whatever he has with Steve, especially not to a beautiful woman like Dina.

Dina laughs. “Well, then, you wouldn’t mind having some fun then, would you?”

“Fun?” Reince asks.

“Turn on Facetime.”

He presses his lips together. Part of him wants to ask why, part of him has a pretty good feeling as to why, and another part of him thinks that maybe this is a bad idea. Then again, saying yes to this whole insane administration was a bad idea so hey, why grow a conscience now?

“Hang on,” he says. He pulls his phone away from his ear, wiping the camera with his shirt, and then turns on Facetime. It takes a few seconds but soon he’s seeing Dina’s smiling and charming face. She looks as immaculate as ever, even while she’s dressed down and looks like she’s sitting at a desk somewhere.

“I redirected it to my computer so I could multitask a little,” she explains. “You’re looking good, Reince.”

Reince feels his face flush and he can see it on the corner of the screen. “You’re looking better,” he counters. “Beautiful, really.”

“Aw, you’re such a flatterer,” she smiles softly. She leans back and crosses her arms. “Think you can set the phone on the counter?”

“I think so.” He wipes away some of the water from the sink and steadies the phone there, in the space just below the mirror. He can really only see himself from the waist-up, if he leans back just a little.

Dina watches him carefully, pulling her robe closer to her chest. “Perfect – just stand right there.” She leans back. “Can you pull down your pants, Reince?”

“Okay,” Reince says. His face heats up a little more but he tries not to think about it too much. He takes a deep breath and carefully unbuckles his pants, letting them hit the floor with a dull thud. His dick is half hard and visibly tenting his boxers, and he knows she can tell.

Her smile goes from sweet to a little mischievous as she leans a little forward, head resting on her hand. “Why don’t you relax a little, Reince? Maybe even play with yourself?”

His voice catches in his throat and it takes him a moment to say anything. “I, uh, I don’t know…”

“Come on, Reince,” she says, and while her words are insistent, her tone stays relatively sweet and it’s hard not to say no to her. Not when she’s so nice to him. “Can you do this for me, please? Don’t you want to be a good boy?”

He does, oh fuck, he does, and he pushes his boxers down to his knees. He’s hard now, really hard, and his first few strokes are hard and rough.

“Slower,” Dina says, all of a sudden. “Take your time. Enjoy it. Do you really want this to end so fast? Want our time together to be so short?”

“No,” Reince says, a little breathless. “No, I don’t.” He slows down, measured strokes teasing the head of his dick at an almost excruciating pace. He's so fucking hard.

"There's a good boy," she says, and it's almost enough to push him over the edge. She seems to notice that, somehow, and then says, "Okay, that's enough, Reince. You're doing so well, don't worry."

Reince bites down his lip. He lets go of himself and grabs the counter instead to resist temptation. There's a thin layer of sweat already covering his face and he thinks about wiping it away.

"Can you do something else for me, Reince?" Dina asks. She's leaned over the screen and robe is slightly slipped off, enough so he can see the lace in her bra. "It might be a little hard, but I think you can do it. Do you think you can do it?"

"Yes," Reince says quickly. "I can do it." He doesn't know what it is but he knows he can do it. He can be a good boy.

"Don't force yourself if you can't," she says, "but I want you to suck on two of your fingers, get them nice and wet, and then I want you to push them inside you. Do you think you can do that?"

He takes his left hand and starts to suck on his fingers. They taste salty, of sweat and precome, and he sucks as hard as he can.

"You're doing so well, Reince," she assures him. "So well. You're being a very good boy for me."

He responds with a breathy sigh as he removes his fingers from his mouth. It's a little tricky, considering that he's standing and his pants are by his ankles and he's in a tiny airplane bathroom, but he grips the sink with his free hand and then his fingers are inside of him. He’s not sure what feels better – the burning sensation of his fingers up his ass or the fact that he managed to get them in there at all, all for her.

There must be something in his face that shows he did it because Dina lets out a slow hum. "Oh, Reince, that's good, that's so good. You're a very good boy, you know that? Such a good boy for me." His eyes are closed but he hears her shift around a little. "Can you move your fingers around for me? In and out, just like you're being fucked."

He can only imagine it, really, except he doesn't think of Dina's lithe figure behind him, shoving a plastic cock up his ass with her nimble fingers wrapped around him. No, in his mind, thick fingers dig into his sides while he's biting down on the nape of his neck, like he did then.

"Oh, fuck," Reince manages to breathe, and he tries to shove his fingers in deeper.

"You're doing so good," Dina says. Her voice doesn't even sound real to him right now, not really, not when he's this far gone. "Do you want to know what he'd do if he were there?"

"Yes," he says, panting more than a little. "Yes, please." He doesn't stop to focus on who the he is - his mind if more than willing to supply.

"It would be rough," she says. Her voice is deeper, a little breathy, as though she's affected too, by whatever he looks like. "He'd shove you against the wall, breath hot against your neck while he just shoves himself inside of you. He wouldn't prepare you at all, he wouldn't need to - he knows you can take it." She pauses a second. "Can you take it, Reince?"

"I can take it," he groans. "I can take it."

"Good boy," she says, smile evident in her tone. "He wouldn't touch your dick, would he? No, he’d bite all over your skin, leaving bloody marks wherever he could. He’d rub between your thighs and barely graze your aching cock. He’d tease your nipples until you couldn’t bear it any more, until you’d have to beg for him to stop teasing and start fucking.” She hums softly. “Can you try begging, Reince? Begging for him to fuck you?”

Reince bites back his moans. “Oh, fuck, please, Steve, _please_.” His breath comes out in short pants and his hand turns white as he holds on the counter for dear life. “Please, Steve, I need it, I need it so fucking bad.” He’s waiting for her to say something, waiting for some relief from this effective torture, when –

When Dina’s phone rings. He doesn’t hear anything for a moment, and then he hears her say, “Oh, fuck, it’s Mattis.”

And then Reince opens his eyes. It’s enough to pull him out of his daze, enough for him to pull his fingers out of his ass and look at her tiny face through the phone screen. “Holy shit,” he says, “is he – shit, is this about the release? Is this it?”

“I think so.” She looks up from her phone and her face turns apologetic. “Um, well, Reince, I…”

“You gotta go,” he finishes for her. “This is huge – fuck, we need a big win like this, especially with all those healthcare revivals and that tax reform plan Mnuchin keeps planning but probably won’t amount to anything except anger from the Democrats…”

“Everything angers the Democrats,” Dina says with a slight chuckle. She trails off into a sigh. “I’m really sorry – I didn’t think anything would come up, not like this.” She looks down at herself and shakes her head. “Fuck, I have to change and I was just about to come.”

“You’re telling me,” Reince says, and smiles when she laughs. “Text me the moment something happens, all right?”

“I will,” she promises. “Have fun in Kenosha.”

“I’ll make it fun,” he replies. She hangs up and then it’s just him, naked from the waist down, staring at his reflection in the mirror as his dick slowly softens. He doesn’t remember much about what happened, what he’d said or done, but she always takes good care of him whenever they do this, and, well, it’s hard to do it without her.

He considers trying to jerk off on his own, thinking of that time they were together in her office, when there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Well, not so much of a knock – more of a loud and incessant banging.

“Reince,” Steve says, voice booming through the door, “you fucking open this damn door right now or I’ll fucking rip it off – don’t think I fucking won’t.”

The thing is, Reince has a feeling he really will tear down that door, and so he pulls up his boxers and pants, loosely buckling his belt, before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Steve steps right in and slams it shut behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, voice low and deep.

Reince blinks, then blinks again. “Well…” he says, slowly, “I’m not sure if I really should say…”

“You were fucking around with Powell, weren’t you?” He looks him over and narrows his eyes. “You really were.”

There are several things Reince can say in response to this, ranging from “Um, what?” to “Uh…” to “Er, well, you see…”, but he doesn’t end up getting to use any of them because the next thing he knows, his back is against the door and Steve is kissing him like he’s never kissed before.

Reince can’t help it, he just starts to kiss back, the haze from earlier returning as his pants are pulled down and Steve lets go of him to pull on his condom. And then Reince’s hands are clinging to Steve’s shoulders and he’s letting out soft moans as Steve presses into him again and again.

“You’re mine,” Steve says, right in his ear. Thick fingers wrap around his dick and they’re not gentle at all. “You are _mine_.”

“Oh, god, Steve, please, please, _please_ –” He bites down on Steve’s shoulder to muffle the sound of his orgasm, and he’s still riding the aftershocks when Steve spills into him.

They stay like that for a couple of seconds, catching their breaths and breathing into each other’s ears, and Steve takes a step back. He runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. “You should… clean yourself up and head out first. I’ll follow after.”

“Okay,” Reince says, after a second. He washes his hands and splashes his face, trying to keep himself from looking too fucked – in every sense of the word – but it’s just as he’s about to turn and head for the door that Steve pulls him back and kisses him.

There’s a certain desperation to it, one that hasn’t been there since they thought they were going to be fired at Mar a Lago, and Reince just stands there for a few moments after. Steve doesn’t address him, just pushes him aside a little so he can wash his own hands and get himself looking ready.

Reince waits a couple more seconds before heading out into the open. The plane is starting its descent and he takes a seat somewhere random, and Steve ends up taking his seat right next to him.

It’s such a weird moment for Reince, to be in the presence of the man who just fucked him moments ago and now they have to pretend that their relationship isn’t anything more than professional. He manages to bite back whatever hysterical laughter he feels coming on – that is, until he realizes that they’ve joined the mile-high club.

Steve just stares at him while he’s hunched over with laughter, face pink and breath coming out in small bursts, and it takes Trump himself – from wherever to wherever – to walk past and raise a brow. “What’re you laughing about?”

Reince abruptly stops laughing. “I, uh…” he looks out the window, trying to think of something, and then there it is right there, “I – I can see my house from here.”

“Wait, really?” Steve turns his head and looks out the window, nose pressed against the glass.

“Yeah,” Reince says, chuckling a little. “Look, it’s right there – that one, right there.”

“Could you be more vague, Reince?” Steve says with a roll of his eyes, and Reince starts to laugh again.

“That’s nice,” Trump says vaguely. “Have fun with that.” They’re both still staring out the window when he walks away, shaking his head, and Steve clears his throat.

“I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” he says, after a moment. “I could be fired tomorrow, I could be fired four years from now – I don’t know. So, while we’re still together, don’t shut me out.” He turns his head and looks at him, and it’s there again that the Bannon mask falls and Reince can just see him – him as Steve.

“Okay,” Reince says. He looks around, making sure Trump isn’t returning for whatever reason, before reaching out and taking Steve’s hand. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Steve says. He doesn’t look down at their hands, just back out the window, and that’s how they spend the rest of the flight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maggie’s at the office when she gets the email. It looks like it’s spam and, by all rights, it probably is, but it is in her main inbox and the subject line is, _Not necessary for an article but still interesting_. It’s a weird subject, which is probably why she was attracted to it in the first place.

She pulls it up on her phone, leaned back in her chair while reporters around her click on their keyboards or on their phones – just like she is right now. She downloads the attachment, just a short video file that’s barely a few seconds long, and she raises her volume just a bit to hear it.

She barely gets past the first second when, through some reflex or some instinct, she throws her phone against the wall. It smashes and falls to the floor in pieces, and everyone around her stops working. Alex, who was just walking by, stops in his tracks and just stares at her.

“Fuck,” she says, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Now I’m afraid of seeing what you’ll do when you _do_ mean that,” Alex says. He watches her as she gets to her feet and grabs her jacket off the back of her chair. “Where are you going?”

“Out to buy a new phone,” she explains with a shrug. She’s about to walk away, but then backtracks. “Hey, can I borrow your phone? I need to call Glenn?”

“Is it about why you just threw your phone?” he asks. She nods. “And you won’t tell me?” She nods again.

He lets out a groan and pulls it out of his pocket and into her open palm. “Don’t throw this one, all right?” he says. “I’m still paying it off.”

“Of course you are,” Maggie says, not without humor. She waits until she’s out in the street, one of the few places where you’re less likely to be overheard because of the sheer amount of people around you who just don’t give a shit about what you’re doing or who you are, as long as you move when they pass you by.

Glenn takes a couple of moments to answer. “Yeah?”

“Hey,” Maggie says. “You’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

“I already am,” he replies. “Why do you have Alex’s phone?”

“Because I threw mine against the wall.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because Dina Powell sent me a video of Reince Priebus masturbating to thoughts of Steve Bannon.”

There’s a loud crash on the other end and Maggie’s pretty sure he’s just fallen out of his chair. She hears him scrambling for his phone as he gets to his feet. “Okay, what the fuck?”

“Sit down,” she says again. “I’ll start from the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a plot.


End file.
